Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
“I stink.” Jersey dropped her head as Ian held open the side door to the hotel.
“You do.” He smirked, but she didn’t glance up at him to see it. “I stink too when I exercise. Max will get you some new workout stuff so you only have to wear around one day’s worth of stink.” He pushed the button to the elevator.
“Fuck you,” she whispered.
The doors opened and they stepped into the empty elevator. Ian grunted a laugh, resting his hands on his hips and tipping his chin down on a slight headshake. “You’re trying, Jersey … you’re definitely trying to fuck me.”
She was a million things he could never really explain—least of all his motive for the previous weeks.
A feeling.
An impulse.
An underlying need.
So he kept it to himself, in spite of the looks from Max and Shane. The curiosity of his bandmates. Even the rational part of his own brain questioned his rationale.
Why he felt drawn to her that day in Newark. Why he offered her a job. Why he stripped for her. Why he helped her get off on him on the plane.
Ian ran away from his past. Killed it. Burned it. Scattered the ashes in the middle of the ocean. Then … one day, someone on his crew had to mention Marley’s, and Ian had to drive to Newark.
Newark. Dead is just dead; it’s not really gone.
Forever doesn’t exist. It’s just what people tell themselves to make the now a little more bearable.
Jersey charged off the elevator the moment the doors opened. Ian gave her space, staying several steps behind her. She tapped the key card on the sensor. It didn’t open. She waved it quickly in front of it. It didn’t open.
Then she punched the door and jerked her hand back against her chest, cradling it. Ian rested his hands on the door above her head, caging her with his body, his chest to her back.
Jersey leaned forward and rested her head on the door. “Why did you do it?” Defeat weighted her words. “Why did you take off your clothes?”
“Why did you take off yours?” he whispered back to her.
She didn’t take all of her clothes off, but she would have … that much Ian knew.
Jersey rolled her head side to side, eyes closed. “On the plane … you … you didn’t say one word. Why? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Jersey …” he sighed. “I’m just trying to give you what you need.”
Her head stilled. “W-what?” Jersey pushed away from the door, forcing Ian to take a step backward. She turned to face him. “What I need?” she sneered, pinning him with cold eyes and widening her stance.
“Forget it. Go shower.” Ian refocused on the schedule he needed to keep. Sliding his phone out of his pocket, he used his digital key to open the door to his room.
“Don’t just blow me off,” she spewed through gritted teeth.
“Not blowing you off. Just staying on schedule.” He slipped into his room and shrugged off his shirt to get into the shower. While tossing it on the bed, he paused. The door didn’t click behind him. He sighed. “Fuck, Jersey, just …” He turned.
The door clicked behind her as she stalked toward him, hands fisted. “You should have left me on the street.”
He shifted right to avoid her fist, but she landed a hard hook to his ribs instead, followed by another, and another …
“Back the fuck off!” He guarded his face and twisted his body, stumbling a few steps. When the back of his legs hit the bed, he blocked her jab and shoved her with enough force to knock her on her ass.
“There are no shiny rewards for adopting the homeless, you rich, fucked-up asshole!” She scrambled to her feet. Blood oozed from the cut by her eye where she hit her head on the leg of the barstool.
Ian cringed, finding it hard to defend himself without hurting her.
Jab. Cross. Hook. Uppercut.
Jersey exploded onto him like a tornado touching down in a crowded town. He fell back onto the bed. She straddled him, using every inch of him as a punching bag.
He hid his face behind his arms, wincing at the stabbing pain in his ribs from her relentless jabs. Ian rolled to the side and shoved her from the bed.
She came at him again.
Again, he shoved her away. When she stumbled to the floor, he grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back, forcing her onto her stomach. Then he lay on her. Just … restrained her with his sheer size and bodyweight, needing a few moments of reprieve to assess the damage.
He underestimated her mental stability, her self-control. That was on him. But he couldn’t let her do that anymore. Licking the blood from his lip, he blinked both eyes. The left one throbbed, along with his jaw and bruised ribs.